On Darkness Winging
by SJ.Endeavor
Summary: The Drakul Company unearthed something that should have been left buried, a secret that holds the key to the Company's dark past... and Gotham's newest breed of troublemaker. Can Batman defeat Gotham's latest threat? Dracula crossover, slight AU.


Hi! I recently discovered that a childhood series of mine, Batman Beyond, was available to purchase on iTunes. In a fit of nostalgia I bought every available episode, and was struck with the idea for a fan fiction. "On Darkness Winging" is the result of childhood cartoons mixed with the book Dracula (which I was rereading at the time). This is a DraculaxBatman Beyond semi-crossover, so try to keep an open mind as you read. Although the Batman Beyond characters do not appear until the next chapter, I hope you enjoy the beginning of "On Darkness Winging."

* * *

On Darkness Winging

An S.J. Endeavor!

Prologue:

"Ice Bound"

* * *

The drill of the machine punched through the cavern's top in seconds, opening a circular hole just wide enough for a person to slip through. "Like a knife through butter," the drilling overseer laughed. His subordinates all laughed, too, though they were perhaps a touch more nervous than their senior. "Now who wants to go through first?"

All eyes immediately went to Douglas, the head of the professional spelunking team hired to investigate the cave. Douglas—a tall, slender man whose wiry frame did little to express just how much strength lay in his skinny arms—swallowed, adam's apple bobbing, and cinched his parker tighter about him. The Carpathian Mountain cold caused his hot, anxious breath to mist frantically in the air. "I'll go first, and three of my men—who have already been appointed—will follow," he said, and gestured at a member of his team. "Go get my gear."

"Right, boss," said the employee, and ran off to fetch it.

"Now, this is a routine recon exploration," Douglas said to the drilling overseer. "The Drakul Company might be paying me a lot to investigate this place, but I'm not going to wander around down there for more than an hour or two."

"Why not?"

"Because it's dangerous, that's why. I get that the Drakul Company thinks there might be some good mineral deposits down there, but I'm not going to risk my neck for them. I'm going to get the mineral samples, draw out a digital map of the cave, and get out, fast."

The overseer smirked. "Well, it doesn't matter to me how long you take as long as you get what we hired you to get. Just be thorough, okay?"

"Sure," said Douglas, turning to take his repelling gear from his employee, who had only just returned. As he strapped himself into the complicated harness and buckles, he said: "Who discovered this cave, anyway? If it's as big as the scientists conjecture, how did it go undiscovered for this long?"

The overseer shrugged. "I'm not too sure. All I know is that this is what they call a 'dome' cave—there's a giant pocket of empty space only ten feet beneath the surface. About a week ago, a local farmer lost a herd of cows when the top of the 'dome' collapsed about a mile from here. Drakul Company swept right in to purchase the land from the farmer, and here we are."

Douglas—as his team rigged up the network of ropes that would safely lower him into the cavern—glanced at the scenery around him. He, his team, and the digging team were smack in the middle of the Carpathian Mountains, far from any sort of advanced civilization. The mountains loomed above them like watchful sentinels, and Douglas shivered, though not from the cold. The place creeped him out. "We're way out in the boonies," he commented. "Why would Drakul want holding of a place so far from their base of operations? It'd cost a pretty penny to transport the necessary mining equipment out there, should we find something good in the cave."

The overseer laughed, loudly, and patted the drilling machine. It was a huge yellow contraption at least three times the height of a man, equipped with three wicked looking drills of various diameters. "This baby only weighs two tons, and it cost a quarter million to ship out here. I get paid well for it, though, so I don't mind."

"We're ready to lower you and the others down, sir," said one of the spelunking teammates.

"Let's get to it, then," said Douglas, and walked to the hole. Peering into it, he said: "I have the radio on my belt, so I'll contact you with a depth estimate as soon as I reach bottom."

"Got it," said the overseer, and watched as Douglas disappeared into the darkness of the cavern.

* * *

The cavern wasn't more than a hundred feet deep, Douglas was pleased to note. After relaying this to the drilling man, he broke out a light tube and checked to see if the cavern looked like it was stable enough to not be dangerous. Once he cleared the place—the width of which outreached the height by a long shot, as he could barely see the walls of the cavern—he called for his three teammates. As the repelled into the cavern, he began to look around.

There wasn't much to the place. The cave was egg shaped, with smooth walls interrupted only by the occasional stalagmite or stalactite. Water—possibly snowmelt from the nearby mountains—dripped onto Douglas' hardhat in a staccato beat, and the drops were dyed a pale shade of green by his glow stick.

He snapped the radio off of his belt and said: "The cavern's roughly 200 by 300 feet; oval-shaped. There are no other chambers, though more might show up under further excavation. The place hasn't been disturbed in a long time." He paused, thinking. "While I don't think you'll find any minerals in this chamber, Ill test the water for sedimentary deposits to see if there's any runoff from other mineral sources. Standby while I… Wait…"

He let go of the talk button, and the drilling overseer said: "What's going on?"

Douglas squinted into the darkness, lifted the radio to his lips, and said: "I think I've found another chamber." Calling his men—who had reached the cavern floor—over to him, Douglas gestured for them to light their own glow sticks. Once each one of them had a green-glowing rod in his hand, he led them over to the back wall of the cave.

"Wow," one of them muttered. There was a huge crack in the wall, at least twice as tall as a man and three times as wide as one.

"Is it safe?" another asked.

Douglas walked forward, took a hammer out of his belt loop, and rapped a few times in strategic places around the crack. "It's fine," he said, pocketing the hammer. "We've found an exit to the first chamber," he said into the radio. "There's a crack on the back wall. I'll go into it while my men check out this first cave." Turning to his employees, Douglas said: "One of you get out the DigiMap maker; the rest of you take water samples. I'll call you if I need you."

Starting off down the passageway, Douglas noted that the hall—shaped almost like a triangle—appeared to be a naturally made rift, probably caused by an ancient earthquake or a shifting tectonic plate. The passage veered to the left in a gentle curve, but did not branch out at any time. "It's a straight passage," he said into the radio. "I'll follow it to the end or for another half hour, whichever comes first. Damn it's cold down here!" The temperature had been dropping steadily. Pausing, Douglas took out his DigiMap machine—a contraption about the size of his fist set with a screen the size of Douglas' palm—and pressed the activation button. Immediately the machine sent out sonar pulses that the device used to construct a map of the surrounding area, which it displayed on its screen. Douglas studied the readout, and said into his radio: "It only goes on for another ninety feet or so, narrowing steadily, where it terminates into another cavern. I'll check it out and head back."

Static from the other end answered him.

"Can you hear me?" he asked.

Another burst of static, and then: "We can…you. Almost out… range."

"I'll be back soon!" Douglas said into the radio, and put it back on his belt.

The DigiMap's readout proved accurate: the tunnel went on steadily, narrowing all the while. Douglas was forced to walk sideways for the last few feet, before he managed to squeeze both his body and his bulky gear into the terminating chamber.

This chamber was tiny: only twenty by ten by ten feet, at the most. However, it was much more impressive than the first chamber, as it boasted a towering collection of stalactites, stalagmites, columns, and baby stalags called 'soda straws,' as well as a temperature that was at least twenty degrees cooler than in the hallway.

"Gorgeous," Douglas muttered, wandering a little farther into the cave. He nearly tripped, however, when a broken stalagmite got under his foot. Frowning, Douglas picked up the broken stone. It showed signs of a rough break-off, like someone had knocked it over…

"Who's been down here?" he murmured to himself, and held his glow stick up high. It revealed a pathway of broken limestone leading farther into the cave, around a group of undamaged columns. Following, the wreckage, he was so intent on tracing the damage that he nearly didn't see the huge block of ice blocking his path.

The ice—a huge chunk of frozen water about five feet high and two feet across—was roughly square shaped. It shone greenish in the glow stick's light, giving it the appearance of a giant, lime-green gemstone that would be the envy of any jeweler.

"Whoa!" Douglas said, picking up his radio again. "There's a huge chunk of ice down here! Cause unknown." He looked up at the ceiling, where a steady stream of water poured down atop the ice cube. "No, wait, I found it. There's a subterranean stream coming out of the ceiling. Likely it hit an obstruction, froze, and, just like a stalagmite, built up over time." Douglas squinted at the ice block. "I can see something inside of it. Lemme take a closer look."

"Ice?" someone said over the radio. "What… talking about?" A sudden burst of reception made the overseer's voice clear up. "What in the heck are you talking about?"

Leaning in close to the ice, Douglas put his hand on the smooth face. "There's something in here!" he said, wiping away the block's outer skin of grime. "But the shape's too irregular to be a stalagmite." His gloves rasped overt the ice, but eventually cleared a window for him to see three. Holding his breath to as not to fog up the ice, Douglas leaned close, and…

Stumbled back, heart beating like it would burst. "There's a woman in the ice!" he stammered. Not believing his own eyes, he looked at the ice again. "There's a woman in the ice!" he repeated, this time in awe and confusion.

"What?" the radio squawked. "What? I can't hear you! I thought you said there was a woman in the ice!"

Douglas stared in wonder. The woman—more of a young girl, really—was dressed in old-fashioned clothing: a skirt with a bustle, a high neckline, long sleeves dripping with lace. A fur wrap lay discarded and ice-bound at her feet. The woman's hands were clutched tight to her chest as she half-stood, half-crouched within her icy tomb, face raised imploringly at the ceiling. Perfectly preserved, her face could almost seem alive—it was animated at any rate, retaining the emotions of fear, desperation, loneliness, helplessness…

"What's going on down there?" the overseer shouted. "Douglas? What's going on?"

"I'm… not sure," Douglas stammered. He dropped the radio at his feet as he whispered to the frozen woman: "Who are you?"

In response to the first human voice she had heard in centuries, the woman in the ice opened her eyes.


End file.
